


This One Hurt

by Mu2



Series: Soulmate Stories [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Actual relationships to be revealed later, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Courting Rituals, Courtship, Current relationships are not all endgame, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Father figure Geralt, M/M, Mother Figure Yennefer, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Uncle Vesemir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mu2/pseuds/Mu2
Summary: As the world continues to change, as do the marks, animal reflections of your soulmate's soul.The most common were prey animals, dogs or cats for those who were a bit different. Predators, of the apex kind, were always reflective of Witchers or royalty, and depending on who you were, either was equally a daunting future.Except, marks were changing. Some Witcher's appeared as animals other than their Schools.So what's a bard to do, with a Witcher eyed prey animal? A Witcher with his brother-in-arms' mark? A sorceress looking for herself and not yet ready to let another in?Stand-alone fic within the series
Relationships: Brief Jaskier/Geralt, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Vesemir, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Eskel & Vesemir (The Witcher), Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Lambert & Vesemir (The Witcher), Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Vesemir (The Witcher)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Soulmate Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636810
Comments: 17
Kudos: 51





	1. One Taught Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> Let's start off with a WARNING!! There's a scene in here where I describe some gory stuff with an eye. It's in a paragraph that's within brackets and has been italicized. Except for this section it's canon-typical stuff of scars and wounds.
> 
> Also: this is a different style of writing to what I usually do. As this is updated I am actively trying to keep you guys engaged and guessing who everyone's marks belong to, so the current relationship tags aren't endgame and will be updated each chapter. All up there will be three, this one sets up everything I will refer to, the next will follow the TV show, and the third will involve some of the Games and additional homebrew :)

Jaskier had been born with his soulmark, being the younger of their bond. 

Most on the continent had prey animals that adorned their bodies. Birds, rabbits, deer appeared to be common, the most ‘predatory’ a soulmark usually was was a dog, domestic cat. Not many had true apex predators adorned on their skin.

As reflections of the soul, these animals showed the nature of one’s split soul; seemingly the piece of their own soul the was missing.

It was also well known that it was those bonded to Witchers who had apex predators on their skin. Them or royalty, or worse, a criminal or killer. Lions were good fortune, they mainly lead to a member of royalty, as did grasshoppers or dragons. A dragon was tied to the Nilfgaardian royal family, given the fiery nature of the creatures.

Witchers were primarily symbolised by their Witcher School. Different wolves were worn on the skin of many, tied to the hair colour or colours worn by their particular bondmates. Scars were reflected on the marks as well, painfully reproduced in vivid detail.

Though it was agreed that not all Witchers were reflected accurately in the lore of the animals chosen to represent them, their identity from their Schools more than made up for it. The Wolves weren’t always teachers or guides, but when you witnessed one of them sneeze and ruffle themselves, you’d swear they couldn’t be anything _but_ a wolf.

To the disappointment of a young Jaskier he was not amongst those seemingly destined for a Witcher or higher nobility. No apex predator took up space on his body, no sharp teeth or claws, nothing he saw as worthy of one so adventurous or destined for adventure as he.

***

Different as Yennfer was when she was born, she was never outright abused for her appearance due to her mark. There were few marks that could protect their bearers, some were by reputation and others by magic.

Any who were decorated by lions, dragons, apex predators were protected by their reputation, by the potential for retribution. Ravens, rabbits, dragonflies, foxes and owls, amongst others, were a different story, they meant that magic of some sort was bonded to the bearer. Stories of curses being unleashed upon attackers and abusers stayed many hands.

Ravens were the worst of them though, pure magic and Chaos resided in those symbolised by it, and any who crossed a Raven or their bonded didn’t enjoy life for much longer.

***

Given that facial scars were not uncommon amongst the Witcher population, it was how many were identified by their bondeds. Vesemir found his by the distinct lack of an eye on the Bear on his right side, the man being of the Bear School and having lost the eye during a fight. Each time Vesemir asked how exactly he’d been parted from the eye the man told a different story, a vicious goose, werewolf, mob, or disgruntled lover. (Personally, Vesemir and the other Wolves enjoyed the thought of the goose, it amused and terrified them at the same time)

_(He also knew it wasn’t that goose, or the werewolf or mob. Vesemir had felt it when the Bears eye was taken, the hook of a finger behind the eye and the odd suction of its removal. Whether it was the lover or a friend he did not have the heart to ask)_

Over the course of a Witchers training, Trials and the Path, they were bound to have identifying scars. Carved into all those involved in the bond. 

***

There had been changes to the way marks developed and presented over the course of Vesemir’s lfie. By the time he was teaching some amongst them had been found by their bonded’s and identified not by their school but their scars and eyes. The Witcher eyes were present no matter the animal mark.

Marks had also started to move incrementally, dependent on the mood or attitudes of the other side of the bond. Small movements mainly, a moved paw, a head tilt in a bird. 

Vesemir’s mark would never move, he knew that. This was a new generation of magic touching those on the continent. The most his could ever change was with the ageing and wounds of his lover.

***

The excited yells of a Witcher’s mark coming in would never change or dull. Young ones would whoop with joy, rush from their beds and immediately show anyone else within their vicinity. Some would have the mark of another Witcher, others the marks of magic folk, and rarely they would have a common mark.

A common mark was a sign of dread for the young Witchers; the elation usually wore off quickly. To be marked with a common mark was to come to terms with their short lives and inevitable death. The maximum amount of time they may have with their bonded was short, too short in comparison to their own lives.

When on the path a livid and puffed Badger ripped onto Geralt’s left side, head snuffled under his jaw, and curled around him protectively. Already the passion and aggressiveness of the owner of the mark was apparent. He’d shown it to Eskel during the Winter, as well as a few of his other brothers. None commented on the small size of the mark, another new addition to the marks, size reflecting age, or how it would one day disappear before Geralt was even in his prime for a Witcher.

Eskel’s Hummingbird mark appearing when he was on the Path was not a time of joy, despite the small birds meaning. He couldn’t hide it for it had taken pride of place in the hollow of his throat, a tiny patch of colour. He’d walked into the Keep during winter and dared anyone to belittle the fluttering mark.

Amongst the rare few who arrived with a mark, Lambert was amongst them, already knowing what type of person his bond connected him too. Unlike the other though he kept it to himself, never showing the mark to others, and keeping himself clothed as much as he could around others.

Once Vesemir had caught sight of it, already showing the strain of age on a full-grown mark, scars and a fluff of what appeared to be silver. Destined for a long life with an already dying bond mate, he wouldn’t pity the boy, but he would help to shape him to survive.

***

When she’d been bought and sold Yennefer blamed her mark initially. Looked at it and swore that if she’d had a plain bird or cat that she wouldn’t have been sold. Subconsciously she knew she would have been killed young, only the threat of the mark had saved her at times.

When they trained it’s bright colouring was visible along an exposed shoulder. The fluff of its tail seemingly puffed when she did something right, or when she was praised, the white tip of it brushing her neck. As they contained their Chaos, worked and manipulated it Yennefer became more connected to her mark, and wondered if her own mark on her bonded did too. 

The soft tread of paws along her body, the luxurious feeling of fur against her body, everything was heightened. This continued until the night of her Change. Claws dug into her skin, attempting to hold her back when she said she didn’t need tonics or draughts for the pain. Teeth held firm the back of her neck as they wailed together.

It was the first time she had felt pain from the mark. Pain was not a new concept, but the betrayal she felt when it attempted to hold her from her dream stung.

Knowing the nature of her mark Yennefer sought to punish its owner. Every locating spell, enchantment or token she rejected their use. Finding the recipient of one’s bond was a fool’s errand, and Yennefer was no fool. Instead of finding them she put blockers, anything to stop them from finding her in return. It took several years before she could look at the downy fur and feel anything but a keen sense of betrayal.

***

Until his teen years Jaskier hadn’t known that the eyes on his mark were that of a Witcher. That a mark, or new mark as they were calling those that could move, bore the eyes or colouring of their counterpart. This went for both magical kind and humans. Jaskier’s mark on his bonded would have blue eyes, no matter their species.

This could have an eerie effect on specific animals which had black eyes, suddenly having blues, greens, browns, every colour but black. 

For what felt an age to the young man, he had resented that he’d been made to carry a prey animal, not a predator like a wolf or snake. That his soul would not reflect their adventurous spirit or joy of the world around them.

Soon after he learnt of the nature of his mark, that they would be long lived whilst he was not, Jaskier sought to find them, to live in their adventure. 

As though Destiny too rejoiced in his celebration of life, he was met with several Witcher’s on his travels as a bard. 

A Cat that was curious if he’d played Gwent, toying with him when they split their deck to go a round with him. She’d left in a whirlwind of laughter and joy at his sound defeat. Though he could not make it out, a wing was positioned on her arm. (This amused him greatly, a Cat out in search of a Bird to toy with for the rest of their lives. He didn’t think that she would toy with them as she had done him, but that they would have a merry chase and to-and-froe between them both.)

Dressed in vibrant greens a Viper had entertained Jaskier with their knives and quick wit. Those yellow eyes saw everything and when they alighted on the cautious gaze of yellow on Jaskiers collarbones they’d roared with approval; “You’re both well matched, I think. He won’t mean to be closed off young bard, but it’s in all their nature.”

“Whose nature?”

“His and his brothers. You needn’t worry though, that’ll keep you safe until then.” The Viper had nodded to the yellow eyes fixed on him.

Most curiously he’d met with a Koala, who stared at the yellow eyes, this time on his shoulder, and seemingly deliberated the possibility of Existence. “You’ll be fine with him, more so than the other I believe. Others may protest, but I see you happy and whole with him instead.”

“You know them then?”

Smiling at him before she departed, she only said; “I know them all. Because I know I wish you all happiness, but I cannot always grant it.”

***

Geralt of Rivia was the epitome of ‘closed off’ and had Witcher eyes. In line with his mark, Geralt could help to achieve Jaskier’s dreams, and during their ordeal he’d kept the bard safe.

***

At some point the Badger turned its head away from the viewers gaze. During what Geralt and others estimated to be his marker’s early teens, they’d somehow developed an attitude where they didn’t wish to show their face.

It’s development was normal, growing into a nice and plump size, despite an early childhood thinness. Progressively the Badger had filled out and bulked, but it _moved_.

When Geralt could no longer see it’s face, he’d wondered if the creature and owner had lost their aggression. According to the terrified looks of those he attempted to bed, the answer was no.

Faster than any other mark he’d seen, Geralt’s mark would move and bare its teeth to an unfortunate bed mate, only to turn away when Geralt attempted a glimpse at it. From then Geralt knew that the aggressive bastard wasn’t _shy_ or demure, only being a little shit and not showing Geralt its face.

Within a few hours with the bard, Jaskier, Geralt knew that like his Badger, the bard was a little shit too. Luckily Geralt knew how to deal with little shit’s. 

***

The Badger mark of Geralt’s came in before Eskel’s Hummingbird. Each winter they’d check over Geralt’s mark for signs of age. Grey patches, less musculature, shrinking in size. So, each winter they breathed a sigh of relief when there was neither.

It had to be Eskel that checked, any other and the beast would refuse to stay still to be looked over. 

When the time came to check Eskel’s Hummingbird it vibrated his skin with its wing flaps and stayed still for any and all who looked. According to what Eskel and his brothers had researched, Eskel’s marker was male. A bright red throat patch which the bird displayed at all times proclaiming its gender.

Given the aggression and possessiveness of Geralt’s Badger, many, excluding Vesemir and Lambert, were surprised the thing hadn’t borne its genitals at the White Wolf’s bed mates. It appeared to trust in their fear of its teeth and claws.

It had yet to be proven wrong.

***

The powerful form of Yennefer’s mark had been frozen for some time. Decades it stood powerful along her back and sides, never changing and remaining perfect. There had been some instances of pain, but nothing lasting on its form.

They’d seemingly reached an accord between them. Yennefer would be allowed to take fellows to her bed, but never more than once. She couldn’t help but think that her own mark on the other wouldn’t be so kind. Knowing her drive and control, she knew that whatever animal graced them would hiss, spit or claw at her marker, or at their bed mate, until they stopped.

It was hypocritic of her, but her own mark had yet to react similarly, so her marker hadn’t taken it too harshly.

***

From a young age Lambert had a distinct connection with both his marks; the one be bore, and the one on his bonded. 

For both he could feel the animal move, could will the mark on his bonded to move. Lambert knew what type of being his mark lead to and having immersed himself in the world of the Witcher, he’d met many along his path. It was within the walls of Kaer Morhen though that he knew he would meet Destiny; he hadn’t made his mind up if he would spit in its face or not.

Not until he, along with his training class, met the older Witchers. During a training exercise he could feel it, the excited thrum of his mark on another, reaching out in some way. Eskel had dragged Geralt to the eager and lively trainee’s, Lambert amongst them, and imparted knowledge and skills. As Eskel talked Lambert could feel his own Wolf, coiled tightly, start to relax. The long claws stopped pinching his skin, the tail swished with lazy movements, it became a beast at rest.

***

His beast did not always remain restful though. One year when the older Witchers were on the Path he felt the impact of new wounds, scar tissue lining his Wolf’s body. Along its face.

That winter he knew exactly which Witcher would return home with a new facial scar, and knew it was time to use his mark to distract his marker from knowing how close he was. Luckily, Lambert knew the dimensions of his mark quite well, how to manoeuvre it so his marker wouldn’t feel something, or would. 

Movement of a mark usually distracted his marker well, a well-placed head tilt, more movement meant that they wouldn’t look into its eyes.

***

Many were not ready to meet their Fate or Destiny. Since the introduction of the moving marks, the scars, easier ways to identify ones bonded, these were used to distract and mislead. A hummingbirds throat patch can shine so brightly that one doesn’t think to look at it’s eyes, for it is already a small being.

The tilt of a tail can obscures the claws or teeth; hiding the killing strike before it lands. Curiosity can exist in all creatures and humans, but rarely does it mean that a docile creature is exactly that. 

A warning that is remembered by all; ensure they’re your marker. To protect yourself, them and any involved in the bond, for you never want to look at them and think; ‘This will hurt’.

This warning goes for you too, _This One_ will _Hurt._


	2. One Taught Me Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the plotline of the Netflix series loosely, we follow our main crew through their main trials on the way to happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit longer than the previous one! And the next should be roughly the same!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me folks!

Though most of the continent has romantic soul marks, a very rare handful had familial soul marks. These marks mainly marked those who were not blood bonded but would mean more than that. Often some of these marks were between those of same blood.

Siblings that had been sent into the woods together, down the Trail of Treats, escaping the horrors at home, and those in the woods, could walk out with matching sparrows on their joined hands.

A child surprise may mark their parent when the surprise is claimed. The child may also mark their claimers marker too.

Familial marks differed from romantic ones in that there was always a string tying the bonded together. Movement from the mark would cause a ripple down the string, and a flutter on their markers end.

Both Yennefer and Geralt were marked the night that Geralt of Rivia claimed the Law of Surprise. A matching Lion cub curled under or around their existing marks, nosing into soft fur, seeking comfort.

Similarly, Vesemir within Kaer Morhen was marked with a young Lion cub, who was dwarfed by the Bear on his body. As was Lambert, his Wolf protectively wrapping the young thing into its body.

Another was surprised that night, when the heat of the mark clawing across their side. Magic knew instinctively who would have an impact. Destiny was a bitch, but she knew what the dice would roll, after all, she both created the dice and rolled them herself.

***

Druck watched Vesemir whenever they were together. The Bear would watch as his bonded would teach Witcher trainees, and marvel at his methods. It was not only the young trainees that Vesemir would teach, but also returning Witchers who had suffered an injury so grave that they needed to adjust their fighting styles.

When his eye had been taken, Druck had had to relearn how to do things. Retraining himself to do ordinary tasks like picking up a tankard proved an aggravation for the Witcher. Though Witchers were enhanced, they still maintained some human characteristics, such as having a better eye. Much to his chagrin, his right eye was the one that had been removed, which proved to be his better one.

Distance changed, not drastically, but enough that when he knocked things over, he was surprised. Similarly, his depth perception was thrown off. So, he’d returned to Haern Caduch before the winter, and joined the younger trainees in their tasks. This was a common act for some Witchers, a hazard of their profession, so he did not seem too out of place.

As it was, it was during a training session that Druck noticed it. Vesemir touched his side. A new mark was coming in. It was not until they were tucked into their rooms later that he broached the subject.

“Should I be worried that you’re leaving me Beloved?” 

Vesemir paused in his disrobing to look at Druck, “How many decades and you still ask me if I am leaving you?” Concern pinched at his face. “Druck, I have told you, and will keep telling you, that I am yours until this heart of mine stops.”

Touched, Druck felt guilty for the phrasing of his question; “Thank you. I only meant I noticed that a new mark came in today.”

“Ah, yes,” Vesemir finished pulling off his undershirt to reveal a small looking Lion cub under Druck’s Bear. “I fear it may have come in due to someone else’s doing, not my own.”

“A Child Surprise?”

Humming absentmindedly Vesemir agreed with him and continued to prepare for bed. “Did you remember to heat the pan?”

Druck pulled back the bed sheets to reveal a small black pan of sorts, nestled at the bottom of the right side of the bed, where Vesemir’s feet would go. “You’ve got poor circulation Beloved, of course I couldn’t forget.”

The cheek earned him a peck of a kiss; “Like you haven’t forgotten before. Now _in_ , in. My feet are getting cold.”

***

Eskel did not enjoy the Path, though he assumed many did not. Looks of horror and disgust, though he expected them and was used to them, never truly ceased to cause a lump in his throat. This lump would only disperse when he felt the rapid-fire beats of his Hummingbird’s wings at his throat, as if to ward it off.

The rapidness of the wings reminded Eskel of the heartbeats of those around him and took to fondly calling his Hummingbird his Heart. Lambert would roll his eyes, but once, under the cover of night and the screams of brothers during the Grasses, Lambert sought out Eskel and said he wished that his bonded would be as fond of him as Eskel was of his Heart. That Lambert wished to be known as his bonded’s Love.

When Lambert came out shivering but alive, Eskel bundled him up and said that his marker would be so lucky for Lambert to be their Love.

Similar nights occurred after those nights. During winter when all were asleep, Lambert would find Eskel and they would talk about everything except the past or present. To look into the future and see something bright.

***

Despite knowing for some time that he would be bound to a Witcher, Jaskier had not quite pictured being literally bound to the Witcher and kidnapped by elves. Bonafide elves.

Elves who quite rudely destroyed his lute over both his and Geralt of Rivia’s protests. It heartened the bard that the Witcher yelled for his release, was willing to sacrifice himself for the possibility of Jaskier’s freedom.

The beautiful lute that was gifted to Jaskier after the ordeal didn’t quite make up for his originals destruction, or the bruises he and Geralt were now decorated with.

“It didn’t go like that Jaskier.” Geralt protested atop Roach, glaring at the bard as he sounded out the song he was preparing.

“That may be so, dear Witcher,” Jaskier replied, looking down at the strings and his fingers, trying to figure out how to play for the song. “But I wish for the people to love you, not ridicule you. So, an ‘epic tale’ it is.”

***

When they had been tied together Geralt had felt his Badger react, seemingly trying to crawl away from the beatings that Geralt was receiving, but not retreating entirely. 

There would be new scars to adorn his mark on his bonded. One to the face, and a few scratches here and there. Nothing dire, but somehow enough for the Badger to react to. 

Back to back he’d felt the bard flinch and attempt to remain rigid during the beatings. It wasn’t until the lute was broken that he’d shown signs of panic. When Geralt had raised his voice to try to save the man whose eyes were so blue.

***

‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’ proved to be a good business point for Geralt. His bard’s song travelled far and wide, loosening a villages pockets more than a growl or threat could. What did villagers truly have to fear when the monster had been slain, and a man growled at them, who wouldn’t actually harm them?

The song also served as a reminder Geralt whenever he heard it. It also served to show both the talent of Jaskier’s mind and wit, along with his voice. Those who took up the song in a tavern when they caught sight of a yellow pair of cats eyes did not have quite the same dulcet tones as his bard. Much to Geralt’s ears’ dismay.

***

Kaer Morhen was not home to Druck, Vesemir knew this. He saw that the Bear would gaze longingly at the chest at the end of their bed, containing his winter furs, and sigh in disappointment. Though the keep became cold during Winter, it was never the same as Haern Caduch. Given Vesemir’s role for the Wolves, as a trainer and older Witcher, Druck remained with Vesemir in Kaer Morhen for the winters, and would travel at the first sign of spring every few years to visit his home.

Ever the romantic Druck claimed that Vesemir, his Beloved, was his home, but the Wolf knew that Kaer Morhen would never really be the place where Druck wished to lay down his swords. Though he would, for it was Vesemir’s keep and hearth.

Due to the Bear’s familiarity with the Wolves’ home, word spread, and others came to winter periodically. In the past a Cat had stayed, who had glared distastefully at any who left a window or door open too long, letting the cold into the Keep’s inner rooms. Several Cat’s had stayed in fact, friends of other Wolves, and providers of entertainment and sparring partners.

Aiden, a Cat, had arrived at Kaer Morhen with Lambert for the winter. Eyes wild and bright, his smile sharp, but his words were not un-kind. They acted like pups together when they sparred, rough-housing and causing mayhem he hadn’t seen since Eskel and Geralt’s younger days.

If not for the dark thatch of hair on the Cat’s head, he may have thought that Aiden was Lambert’s mark. If not for the surety that the mark would no longer be there, or would be faded, Vesemir was sure that Aiden and Lambert would have fit well.

“He doesn’t have a mark.”

Looking toward his Bear, Vesemir enquired “What?”

“The Cat,” A gesture was made to Aiden and Lambert in the courtyard, displaying Quen to the younger trainees. “He’s not marked, so even if Lambert and he aren’t marked for one another, they can choose the other.”

“I wasn’t-“

“I ask that you do not pretend that you do not worry for the Wolves under your keep. If he wants to, he will make his own happiness Vesemir, we cannot push further than that.”

***

Aiden did not begrudge Lambert his nights with Eskel. His friend would sneak out of their shared room, and into that of the Witcher who could produce such powerful Signs.

Lambert would return to Aiden and their room to confess what he’d spoken to Eskel, but not what Eskel had confessed to him. It was on the days the Wolf became restless that Lambert would go, when his Wolf would need the calming presence of Eskel to calm himself and the Wolf.

And so, Aiden did not begrudge him this.

***

Witcher’s by nature could not show surprise or react in surprise. So, Lambert was surprised when he heard Vesemir’s sharp inhale when he’d walked in on Lambert changing his tunic.

The large Wolf was visible in all its gory scarred glory, and there was no way to disguise the yellow eyes that peered at his teacher.

“Witcher then.”

After pulling the tunic down Lambert answered, “Yes, a Witcher.”

“You knew when you arrived.”

“Before I’d seen yellow eyes on a human.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“What do you think?”

***

Things did not return to normal after their short encounter, where Lambert scowled at the man who had a hand in raising him, and Vesemir rearranged his preconceived thoughts. Rather, a new normal was established between them. 

Druck was the first to notice, though his Wolf would not tell him what had transpired. Aiden was the first told, and the only told, of what had happened. Eskel had a suspicion but would not poke.

Geralt though, was an idiot, and so he poked. “What happened with Vesemir?” He asked, sitting at the long table with the other older Witchers, drawing the entire halls attention with the question.

“What happened to your face?” Was shot back at him.

“Sylvan who didn’t like ‘Your mother’ jokes. Now, what happened with Vesemir.”

Whispers broke out amongst the younger lads. Hushed words spread through the hall.

“What happened the night you and Eskel went to the lake?”

This brought Geralt short. Unspoken lines had been drawn over their lives, and Lambert was drawing one now.

“I think I met me marker.” Geralt spoke softly, an offering to Lambert and an apology for pushing.

He had not anticipated that Lambert would get up and leave the table at these words. “You’re an idiot White Wolf,” the Cat snarked, “His _mark_ happened with Vesemir.” And he too left the table.

Geralt really was an idiot.

***

Until Cintra Geralt had believed that Jaskier may prove to be his Badger. The young bard was passionate and ferocious when threatened. That was, until Cintra.

***

When he’d rescued the bard from a lord wanting his slice of flesh, Geralt realised that he wasn’t upset at the prospect of Jaskier being with the lords wife. He hadn’t been upset at the prospect of the bard being intimate with anyone in the years he’d known him.

Though he was not prone to jealousy, the thought that his Badger would show such protectiveness in Geralt’s own intimacies, but not respect the same in return irked the Witcher. It was then he knew, he did love Jaskier, but as a companion, rather than a marker.

In the aftermath of the wreckage wrought by Pavetta for Duny, her Phoenix, Geralt saw that he and Jaskier may be tied by destiny, but not the same as a mark would. He wanted to passion and the drive of Pavetta and Duny, desperate to be with one another. As Jaskier’s friend he would be driven to protect the man until his dying breath, but not in the same sense.

Satisfied with his thoughts and realisation, though not with the outcome of the evening, Geralt slunk off without Jaskier. 

(As previously stated though, Geralt is an idiot and did not share this epiphany)

***

At an hour that was quite rudely on the side of too late at night to be reasonable, several bodies awoke to the pain of a new soulmark arriving.

A small Lioness appeared curled on the inner arm, the lower back and on the breast of these individuals. For all this was a sign of hope and of panic. None of them had expected or prepared for a child mark, all had been expecting to go through life without the thought of their own children.

Hope for the idea of a child they never believed they would have. Panic for the idea of a child being brought into their lifestyle. Lifestyles of being on the road, tricking courtiers and kings, and hiding from the world though trying to save it from burning itself down.

Differing from Geratl’s approach to the marks arrival, they did not deny the idea or possibility, rather they planned and prepared for their inevitable child.

***

Jaskier had seen the new mark that adorned Geralts skin, a small Lioness would peer above the Witcher’s high collars and peer at the colourful bard. The small thing also played with the string attached to a paw, much to both her and Jaskier’s amusement. Such movement from a mark, which proved to be like every domestic cat Jaskier had known and decided to be nocturnal, kept the Witcher awake at night.

It was not only the thought of the child surprise that haunted the white-haired man, but the motions of his mark.

Whilst the Witcher dragged the bottom of the lake for a djinn, who would not be able to help his poor Witcher, Jaskier had had enough. “You, need a nap!” Naps could occur when the Lioness herself was napping, and Geralt may get some sleep.

The resulting fight over the djinn’s container was not surprising, the swelling of his throat though was.

***

Ciri, a Princess of Cintra, had six familial marks, and one romantic one. Of the two large Wolves that adorned her, she was most fond of the White one. A Raven would tease the White Wolf as well, swooping for its head sometimes to irk it from playing with the others, particularly the Badger.

There were times when the Raven would flare its wings to prevent the Badger form going near the White Wolf, until one of the others corralled the Raven away.

When she was scared the White Wolf would curl under her chin, and the Raven with the Badger would bear their teeth and claws in the direction of her fear.

Her grandmother despised the sight of any of them. Neither she nor the Lioness of Cintra were adorned with familial marks for the other. There was one for her father, a Phoenix which had faded after his death, but nothing for either of the Lionesses of Cintra. This, Ciri could see, caused Calanthe pain. All talks of her parents ceased at some point, not even a whisper was heard in Cintra’s halls. 

Though she knew it would cause a strain on her relationship with her grandmother, Ciri couldn’t wait to meet them, her familial marks. Especially those with Witcher eyes.

***

Walking into an orgy in process was not something Geralt had anticipated when he’d started the search for a djinn. Neither was seeing captivating purple eyes or feeling the movement of his Badger cease at the sight of the mage.

***

Their coupling was fast and frantic. For the first time Geralt did not feel anything from his Badger when he willingly touched another. Why would it, for his Badger was astride him?

***  
An afternoon after fighting off a griffon for too little pay Lambert had laid to rest on an enclosed embankment. His slumber was disrupted when he felt his Wolf freeze in place, and their bond dull. 

Quickly he’d stripped off his upper armour and clothing, running frantic hands over his laces and buckles to try to get to skin. This morning his Wolf had been restless and moved agitatedly in a circuit around his rib cage. The last movement he’d felt was under his left breast.

Frozen in tableau, the Wolf was paused mid stride, unmoving and not breathing. Something was wrong.

***

Eskel had to forfeit a game of Gwent, five gold pieces and the head of a kikimora, when his Hummingbird started to move drastically. Though the bird was always fast and in constant movement, this was distinctly different to its normal path. 

His Hummingbird was fluttering along his collarbones and clawing at them. Though Eskel could not tell if this was from rage or panic. Trying to soothe the bird, he ran a finger along its small back when it paused for a moment. It did little to calm it, but it did slow its pace.

As he moved away from the game, and the magical item he’d been playing to win for, the bird appeared to calm. Taking deep breaths, both to calm himself and the Hummingbird, Eskel tried to remain quiet and take smooth steps to not bump the small creature.

Many things in the world didn’t frighten Eskel, one of these things though was the loss of harm of his Hummingbird. There was no weight to it, not like Geralt’s badger. 

***

Throughout their time together, Jaskier the Bard, colourful and loud, had never thought Geralt of Rivia cruel or unkind. He’d witnessed the Witcher lower his fees to better suit a small community, or work for free when they had nothing to spare. The Witcher was many things, and kind was amongst them.

Witnessing him with the sorceress that had saved Jaskier’s life disillusioned Jaskier of this notion. Panic clawed at his throat when he saw them together, itching at his eyes and throat. Momentarily it felt as though his neck had swollen up again. Until the tears fell, and he felt gentle hands coax him away from the window did he realise that it wasn’t a curse, but his emotions that had made his neck feel so.

***

Throughout the continent the number of familial marks that the Cintran Princess has was marvelled at. Royalty and those of import would come to the citadel and hope to catch a glimpse of a Raven or Wolf, see the impact of new marks.

New marks were known for movement, but none were quite the same as Ciri’s. Hers were in constant movement, that was neither sluggish nor stilted as many peoples were. This was attributed to her mother Pavetta’s powers and caused a stir amongst courts when they thought on if the Princess would inherit them.

Calanthe was quick to cut these rumours at the root. Their bodies were displayed at the gates.

Though it was widely known that Calanthe did not favour the marks adorning her granddaughter, she never begrudged her showing them off. During summer Ciri would wear gowns with sheer sleeves to better show her marks when they ventured onto her arm. Necklines, though not plunging, were lower so curious yellow eyes may easily peek out.

It was in these acts that Ciri wished she had a proud Lioness on her, her love for her grandmother bursting within her chest. The Lioness would not have been in bad company amongst her familial marks, Wolves, a Raven, Fox, Phoenix and a Badger.

***

All marks showed signs of their markers age, Geralt presumable had a sorcerer of some sort given the lack of ageing of his mark. Eskel was not so lucky. Already his Hummingbird was approaching its middle age, the throat patch becoming brighter in older age, if less active.

He did not know what to do, or how to even begin looking for his match. 

So, he did as no young Witcher trainee was wanting to do, he knocked on Vesemir’s door outside of training hours. “Vesemir? Do you have a moment?”

The door opened inward and Druck passed Eskel as he left the room; “According to Druck I do now. What do you need Eskel?”

“On? I noticed you with Geralt this morning, there’s nothing I can quite critique when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“About my mark Vesemir. I want to start looking for them.”

This brought the older Witcher up short, Eskel hadn’t wanted to talk about the marks before. The odd blue eyes of the Hummingbird a stark reminder that the Hummingbird would be short lived in comparison to Eskel.

“Looking for them in what-”

The door to Vesemir’s rooms was opened and Geralt was pushed inside by Druck. “Group therapy may be better for the soul Beloved.” With that the Bear shut the door and was heard walking away.

“I don’t know why I am here.” The White Wolf grumbled.

Sighing, Vesemir resigned himself to the conversation; “Eskel wishes to venture to find his marker.”

Geralt turned to look at Eskel, a full body movement. “Since when?”

“Since they nearly died this year. For a few hours he lay still with an odd shape to his neck. I thought for sure that it had been snapped or cursed. After a while though they rose and were fine.”

Both Vesemir and Geralt looked shocked, their faces drained of blood to make them look pale. “I say that I wish to find them because I want to _know_ them. Are they happy? Do they want to know me? I do not need a romantic relationship, though I want one, what I need is to know they are alright.”

“Very well then, I’ll contact a few mages I know, they will assist and point you in the right direction when you leave for spring.” Vesemir replied sombrely. “They will not be able to directly assist, that would require a greater magic.”

“Thank you Vesemir.”

“I believe I found my Badger.” Ever dramatic, Geralt dropped a bomb. 

***

After his discussion with Vesemir and Eskel over the winter Geralt wished he had taken Jaskier’s offer of Oxenfurt for winter.

After mention of his Badger being Yennefer, Vesemir had questioned him why. Questioned so many aspects of Geralt’s feelings for the sorceress that he worried that he was wrong. However, Vesemir used similar tactics during their training days, to test a trainee’s resolve.

The contract for a dragon was what Geralt needed to forget the winter. It was an added bonus that Yennefer was to be on the hunt as well.

***

“I’ve seen her on you Yenn. You don’t need anything from the dragon, we can choose to leave-”

In a whirlwind of hair and fury Yennefer turned on Geralt, “I’m doing this _for_ her Geralt. It’ll bring me closer to her. Everything you do is to drive her away.”

“That’s not fair-”

Impatient, she cut him off, “ _Nothing’s_ fair Geralt. Though the least I can do is prepare to receive her when she’s ready. I’ve a home set up, and this is the last piece I need before I’m ready.”

“Ready? For what?”

“For my daughter Geralt. For my marker too.”

Surprised, Geralt stepped back, “For your marker too? I’m already-”

“Don’t be a fool Geralt, it was never you and I. She’s a mage I’ve met in the past. And, she’s been patient enough with me as it is. It’s time to stop clinging to false hopes. Goodbye Geralt.”

***

“Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s you shovelling it?!”

“That’s not fair-”

“The Child Surprise-”

“Geralt, I have forgiven you many things, but I won’t forgive-”

“Forgiven _what_ bard? What’s there been to forgive?”

“We’re a match Geralt, yet you-” The look of horror on Geralt’s face stopped Jaskier’s tirade.

“Jaskier, we’re not a match.”

Jaskier could feel an awful flush to his cheeks and neck, “How long have you known?”

“Cintra.”

Betrayed, hurt and humiliated Jaskie,r for the first time turned away from Geralt, and made his way on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone have a favourite Gwent deck, for those who have played the games?
> 
> I am curious if anyone does :D
> 
> as always, please let me know how you liked this chapter!!

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE share your theories with me if you want!! Honestly I want to know who you think has who (not all players have entered the ring yet!), and what marks people may have!!
> 
> So far the marks that are known are Eskel's (Hummingbird = joy, pure love), Geralt's (Badger = drive, aggressiveness, passion) and Lambert's (Wolf = patience, bravery, destruction, wisdom)
> 
> Lemme know your thoughts and guesses!!!


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